


so baby pull me closer

by lucylikestowrite



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s04e01 The Virgin Gary, F/F, Lap Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 05:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: Sara reaches up to tuck some of Ava’s hair behind her ear, and it’s like her fingertips are on fire, because that one touch is spreading heat through her body. Ava’s aware, too aware, of how little space there is between them. Of how Sara is tightening her thighs around Ava’s hips, pressing closer. “We’re gonna figure it out.”And, of course they are. This is a road bump. Everything is fine.Everything will be fine, and with that worry momentarily pushed aside, Ava’s mind dissolves completely. She just needs Sara to kiss her again, needs it like air.(a 4.01 episode tag)





	so baby pull me closer

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i was making gifs of the end scene of the episode and turned up the brightness and reALISED THAT SARA'S LEGS WERE OVER AVA'S and like... god that's so close to her being in ava's lap and you guys KNOW if you follow me on tumblr or read my fics that that is my JAM so OBVIOUSLY i had to write this. literally the day after i saw the episode so i have been holding onto this for over a month. let's hope the month of revisions have made it better and not worse. enjoy some shameless sex but like shameless sex with ~feelings

“ _God_ , I love you,” Sara says, her hands on either side of Ava’s face. Ava can't help but beam. Everything about how Sara is looking at her is so soft, so perfect.

Sara leans in, kissing Ava quickly. Ava can tell it’s not supposed to invite anything. It’s just a kiss, a light one. They’ve kissed like this hundreds of times since they got back together, but Ava still wants more. She always wants more. Especially after Sara says that she loves her. That still gets her, every time. Has since the very first time. So, even if Sara hadn't meant to invite anything, Ava can feel need rising.

“And,” Sara continues, shifting forwards, sliding her thighs over Ava’s, fitting the two of them together in a way that makes Ava’s heartbeat speed up. Sara has to be doing that on purpose. “I got a question.”

Ava braces herself, trying not to look worried. She purses her lips, and her hands move absentmindedly to stroke over Sara’s legs.

“Do we—you and I—think that _maybe_ right _now_ is not the best time for me to move in?”

Leaning back slightly, Ava blinks. Fuck. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. That was the last thing she wanted to hear.

Sara’s hands find hers, pulling her back in. “You _know_ that I want to. _Nothing_ would make me happier, it’s just…” she trails off, and Ava evaluates for half a second. This is… bad, but not so bad. She believes Sara when she says she wants to. “I feel like I need to be out there. With my team.”

That, Ava can get. She looks up, into Sara’s eyes, and she’s pleading with Ava to be okay with this. And Ava is. Just about. As long as she still has Sara, she’s okay. “I understand,” she says, and Sara relaxes slightly underneath Ava’s grip. As she continues speaking, she shifts even closer to Sara, bringing their bodies closer. “But can you promise me that our relationship will continue to evolve? Please. I want this. You and me. For real.”

Just saying that is a miracle. Five months ago, she couldn’t have imagined herself ever being that open, that close with Sara, not again. Not after what had happened. But now…

Now Sara is smiling, her expression fonder than Ava could’ve ever hoped for. “So do I.” She reaches up to tuck some of Ava’s hair behind her ear, and it’s like her fingertips are on fire, because that one touch is spreading heat through her body. Ava’s aware, too aware, of how little space there is between them. Of how Sara is tightening her thighs around Ava’s hips, pressing closer. Of how need is continuing to rise inside her. “We’re gonna figure it out.”

And, of course they are. This is a road bump. Everything is fine.

Everything will be fine, and with that worry momentarily pushed aside, Ava’s mind dissolves completely. She just needs Sara to kiss her again, needs it like air.

And, like she can read Ava’s mind, Sara does. Ava can’t help the noise that escapes from her throat as their lips meet, a little needy and a little satisfied. She can _feel_ Sara reacting to it, feel her melting under Ava’s hands as Ava takes the lead a little, pressing in, hungry, desperate, her hands in Sara’s hair, keeping her in place, secure, because she _needs_ this. If she can’t have Sara living with her, she needs at least to have Sara falling to pieces in her lap.

Sara’s hands move up to cup Ava’s face, a smile on her lips as they press against Ava’s, and Ava slides her hands down Sara’s arms, feeling goosebumps underneath her fingertips. She keeps moving her hands further, down Sara’s side, until they join together in the small of her back, pulling Sara tighter against her, until their stomachs are pressed together, until there isn’t a single breath of air between them.

Sara lets out a tiny gasp, an, “Oh,” that goes straight to Ava’s head, and then she pulls back, a smirk on her face. “You want something, baby?” Her voice is innocent, but, as she speaks, she’s moving her hips, grinding gently into Ava’s lap. She leans down, kissing Ava, long and hard, tangling her fingertips in Ava’s hair, not giving her a chance to answer. When she breaks the kiss, she stays half an inch from Ava’s mouth. “You want something?”

“You,” Ava says, groaning slightly as Sara switches up her movements, rolling her hips, still trusting that Ava is going to keep her held up in the slightly awkward position they’re in.

Sara tilts her head, then moves her hand away from Ava’s hair, tracing a finger gently over Ava’s lips. “Here?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, then leaning back in, kissing her again, softer and sweeter this time.

Ava hadn’t been thinking that far ahead, but now it’s been suggested, she needs that. This might still be only _her_ apartment for now, but she wants to feel Sara everywhere. Make it hers by proxy, by virtue of how many places in it on which she’s fallen apart.

“Yeah,” Ava murmurs, still against Sara’s lips. “Here.”

Sara raises an eyebrow as she leans back again. “Ava _Sharpe_. At the _table_? On the _throw?_ ”

Ava nods, ignoring Sara’s tease. “Here,” she repeats, firm, and the corners of Sara’s mouth crease up just before her expression settles into something that looks a little more like desire.

“Okay,” Sara says, amiable, amenable as always, “but you need to turn around. I’m gonna fall off if we do anything more sat like this.”

At that, Ava actually laughs, burying her face in Sara’s hair, nosing through the strands to find her neck, pressing a kiss down to Sara’s pulse point. “Okay,” she agrees, tilting her head slightly so that she’s speaking directly into Sara’s ear, her voice little more than a whisper. “I can do that. Hold tight,” she finishes, because Sara’s weight on her is so good, and she’s not letting her out of her lap, not even for a second. Not yet, at least. Not until she has to.

Sara does, gripping down tight as Ava manoeuvres herself so that her back is against the table.

“Mmm,” Sara hums, kissing her again, her fingers going to Ava’s belt, undoing the buckle, pulling it through Ava’s belt loops. “Much better.”

Sara has the belt off before Ava can stop her, is back to moving her hips against Ava’s, her fingers going to Ava’s button.

“Wait. No,” Ava murmurs. “Don’t—”

Sara freezes in place, concern immediately on her face. “What?”

Ava shakes her head. “No. Sorry. Don’t stop. I just— I want to feel you. First.”

“Oh,” Sara says, laughing, relief obvious on her face, toying with Ava’s hair as she resumes her movements, mercilessly grinding against Ava. “You want to do me first? So,” she leans in, kissing Ava, “chivalrous,” she finishes, winking. “First you cook, now this.” And then Sara frowns. “Wait. You cooked. We need to eat that—”

Ava had completely forgotten about that, and she shakes her head. “No. We don’t,” she mutters. “I just heated it up. It’s nothing gourmet. I can reheat it. I need _you_ , first.”

Sara laughs again, and then her expression turns slightly more serious. “Okay, firstly, anything you cook for me is going to be amazing.” Ava rolls her eyes, but Sara keeps going. “But, if you really don’t mind letting it go cold… I’m happy to wait.”

“Thank god,” Ava murmurs, pulling Sara back in, kissing her, searing hot, one of her hands tangling in Sara’s hair, gripping the strands, holding her tight against her mouth in a way that’s more than possessive, more than she usually would be.

Sara notices, a content sound escaping from her throat as Ava presses her in tighter. Her hands rest on Ava’s chest, and then move downwards, towards the hem of Ava’s shirt. Ava gets the message, breaks away, lets Sara pull the shirt off of her torso. “You know,” Sara says, her voice low, as she traces her fingers over Ava’s arms. “You should wear sleeveless tops more often. I like your arms.” She ducks her head down, kissing Ava’s shoulder, working lower, until she’s at the crook of Ava’s elbow, and she looks up at Ava through lidded eyes.

Ava’s mouth is suddenly dry, and she feels boneless. She coughs, forcing herself to regain some sort of dignity, not wanting to let on that her girlfriend kissing her arm had melted her quite how it had. “I thought it was my fingers you liked?” she says, raising an eyebrow, looking at Sara with what she hopes is an arch expression.

Sara’s eyes darken, and she shifts in Ava’s lap. “It”— Sara cuts off as Ava moves her hand low enough to ghost over the crease of Sara’s legs—“is. But I’m versatile. I can like many of your body parts at once.”

“Romantic,” Ava says, drily.

“Yeah,” Sara says. “I know. Like, I like your fingers, and your arms, but,” she traces her own fingers over Ava’s stomach, moving higher and higher, “I also like,” they reach the bottom of Ava’s bra, teasing over the wiring, “these,” she finishes, her fingers brushing over the soft cups, over the skin spilling out of them.

It’s like she has Ava in a trance. She’s hardly breathing. Her vision has narrowed to just Sara.

Sara leaves one hand palming Ava’s breasts, and moves one back up to cup Ava’s cheek again, kissing her. She works Ava’s mouth open, her tongue insistent, and there’s something about that, the feeling of Sara’s tongue swiping across Ava’s lower lip, that snaps Ava out of her reverie. She can't wait any more. She pushes Sara out of her lap, loathe to do it, but it’s necessary, if she's going to be able to get her out of her clothes, if she's going to be able to finally _feel_ her. Sara lands on the floor—gracefully, but pouting slightly.

Ava doesn’t waste any time, standing up with her, pulling the shirt over Sara’s head. Once Sara realises why she’s been turfed out of Ava’s lap, she grins. Ava feels around Sara's lower back for the sheath she _knows_ is there somewhere, pulling it away from Sara's waistband, setting it down on the table behind them.

“Any more knives?” she whispers, ducking her head, kissing Sara's neck again, quickly. Sara pulls away, leans down, pulls one out of her boot, before pulling the shoes off, throwing them away with a thud. “That all of them?” Ava continues, her mouth still against Sara's skin, kissing in between words, nipping at her skin, feeling Sara going soft underneath her.

Sara nods, leaning into Ava's mouth. “More in the jacket. But no more on me.” Ava makes a noise of contentment, then drops down, unzipping Sara’s jeans. Sara is still grinning, lazily, looking down at Ava where she’s crouched at her feet.

“You gonna help any more?” Ava asks.

Sara shrugs. “You seem to be doing fine on your own.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love me, though,” Sara sing-songs. “You want to _feel_ me, Aves. You’ll do _anything_.” Her words rile Ava up slightly, and if she pulls Sara’s jeans and underwear down slightly more violently than necessary, if she sits back and deposits her back in her lap with more force than is needed, she’s not going to admit to that. Not even when Sara gasps, lightly. And then Sara’s expression softens as she properly takes in Ava’s. When she speaks, her tone mirrors the look on her face. Gentle. Understanding. “Oh. Baby. You _really_ want this tonight, don’t you?” Sara's whole body language shifts, moving away from teasing, moving towards loving and caring and reassuring.

And, okay, maybe that changes things. Maybe Ava c _an_ admit to everything she’s feeling, these emotions threatening to burst from her chest, this deep set need to feel Sara and have her and know that they’re okay, that they’re connected, that they’re _safe_ , and secure, and _going somewhere_.

“Yeah.” Ava nods, her voice getting smaller. “Yeah. I want you, Sara. I need to feel you. I need to know that— I need to know you’re mine, even if you’re not…” and then she trails off, feeling heat rising in her cheeks, already regretting being honest.

“Even if I’m not living with you,” Sara finishes, her face still understanding. “It’s okay, baby.”

“It’s _stupid_ ,” Ava says, suddenly feeling self-conscious, looking down. “I’m sorry. I should never have asked you—”

“Shh,” Sara says. “We already went through this. It wasn’t stupid. It’s okay. I love you. It’s okay,” she repeats, and then she’s got Ava’s hand in hers, is pulling it up to lightly lay a kiss on her knuckles. Ava's other hand rests on her hip, keeping her in place. “It’s okay. I’m yours.”

Ava watches her, stuck utterly still in reverence. And then Sara is guiding Ava’s hand lower, pressing it up against herself, and Ava’s brain short circuits. Sara is wet, and warm, and welcoming. “You see how much I want you?” When Ava doesn’t answer—too focused on her hand, where it’s disappearing between Sara's legs, where her fingers are sliding gently against her centre, dripping wet already—Sara speaks again. “Baby? You see?”

“Yeah,” Ava nods, her voice raw.

Sara moves her hips, slower this time, but with more purpose, grinding against the fingers that still just slightly tease against her centre. She throws her arms across Ava’s shoulders, pushing more of her weight onto Ava, and then she presses up, slightly, closing her eyes.

“I want you, Ava. I’m always going to want you. No matter where I’m living.” She buries her face against Ava’s neck, and when she speaks again, Ava feels it vibrating through her skin. “Give me what you want to. Please.” Ava manages to regain just enough control of her body to press her fingers in further, until she can feel Sara’s entrance with her fingertips. Sara gasps, her body reacting to the feeling by bucking underneath the hand on her hip. “That’s it, baby. You got this.” Ava eases two fingers inside, and Sara actually moans. “God. Yeah. Like that. Is that good? Is this what you wanted? You wanted to feel me like this?” she asks.

It’s a sign of how much Sara cares that she’s checking on Ava while she’s the one almost being fucked. Ava nods, speechless. Sara feels perfect. More than perfect. Velvety soft, like always. And Ava's. All hers.

She flutters her fingers, then lightly scissors them, and Sara gasps again, her hips going wild at the sensation, circling and bucking and thrusting.

When she’s calmed down slightly, Ava speaks. “You ready for me to go for real?” she asks, quietly. “You comfortable?”

“Yeah, baby,” Sara says, her voice hardly more than a breath. “Please.”

Ava starts slow at first, barely even moving her hand, and then she gets faster as Sara’s breathing speeds up, as she grips down harder on Ava’s shoulders, her eyes screwed shut, noises escaping from her mouth that get louder as she’s worked higher, as Ava fucks her.

It’s always that way. She starts off holding back, holding in her reactions, and, as Ava makes her lose it, makes her forget to hold back, she gets louder.

Ava’s hand keeps moving, thrusting carefully, precisely. “Kiss me,” Ava gasps out. She doesn't have a free hand to drag Sara’s face to hers, to stop her from moving as much as she is. “Kiss me, Sara. I need you to—”

Sara doesn’t waste any time, cutting Ava off, two hands either side of her face. Her lips are soft. Her hips roll incessantly against Ava’s as she fucks herself down on Ava’s fingers, always pushing for more. Ava adds another finger, feels Sara stretch to take it. Sara gasps at the feeling. “Fuck. I’m close. Ava. I’m close. I’m—” and then she cuts _herself_ off, kissing Ava again, messy and open-mouthed and rushed and Ava can _feel_ that she’s close, can feel it in her heartbeat and how she’s heating up, and how she’s tensing and clenching around Ava’s fingers. “I need— I need—”

Ava knows what she needs. She lets her thumb lightly brush over Sara’s clit, and Sara actually shouts, tenses. One of her hand moves away from Ava’s face to grip the edge of the table. “No,” Ava mumbles, “hold me.”

“Going to… _break_ you,” Sara manages to gasp out.

Ava just rolls her eyes, guides the hand back towards her own body. “You’re not _that_ strong,” she says, knowing Sara’s too far gone to properly argue. She’s too far gone to do anything but grip down on Ava’s shoulder, a death grip that, sure, is slightly uncomfortable, or, okay, maybe more than a little uncomfortable. Maybe Sara _is_ that strong. But it doesn't matter, though, because the discomfort is masked by the look on Sara’s face, the sounds she’s making, long and drawn out, as Ava rubs tight circles over her clit.

And then she gasps, tenses, ducks her head, has her mouth back on Ava’s neck, whispers, “Fuck. I’m coming, baby”—and falls apart then and there, on Ava’s fingers. She slumps down against Ava's body as obvious pleasure rushes through her. Ava moves her fingers slowly, eking out the last waves of pleasure, then withdraws them. Still obviously in a haze, Sara twists her head from where she’s collapsed against Ava’s chest, following Ava’s fingers with a hungry look in her eye. “You need someone to do something about those?” she asks, her voice a quiet drawl.

“What were you thinking?” Ava asks, teasing.

Sara rolls her eyes, pulling Ava’s fingers close, running her tongue over them, slowly, before sucking them into her mouth. Ava shivers at the feeling, then at the change in temperature when Sara eventually moves her mouth away, resting her head again on Ava’s chest, her forehead in the hollow of Ava’s neck. Ava moves her hand up from Sara's hip to run her fingers through Sara’s hair, soothing, bringing her down from her high. “You good?” Ava asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Sara says. “I'm so good. You made me feel so good, baby. Love you so much,” she mumbles, and then she presses her mouth against Ava's skin. Ava gasps at the feeling, gasps again when she feels Sara work further upwards, until she's almost at her jaw. “Your turn, babe,” she whispers, her fingers going lower, to the waistline of Ava’s jeans, the belt still long gone. She pulls the zipper down.

Ava groans. “We should have that dinner. I can wait.”

Sara shakes her head. “Stop being such a giver, baby,” she says, twisting her head to kiss Ava. “Let me take care of you. You have to be desperate.”

Ava hasn't been thinking of herself much, only concentrating on Sara, but as soon as Sara says it, Ava can feel need between her legs again, aching, wanting. She nods, grimacing. “Yeah, okay, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Sara asks.

“Okay, a lot,” Ava concedes. Sara nods, and reaches behind Ava's back, pulling the clasp undone in one easy motion, before finally sliding out of Ava’s lap again, settling between Ava’s legs. Ava kicks her feet, lightly, and the flats she’s wearing fall to the floor.

“Up,” Sara says, motioning for Ava to lift her hips so Sara can get a grip on her jeans. When Ava does, Sara pulls them down, taking her underwear with her.

She tugs Ava's hips forward, presses a kiss to Ava's thigh. Ava leans back against the table, feeling the lines pressing into the skin on her back, already feeling a little blissed out. She looks down, briefly, and there's a bruise already blossoming on her shoulder where Sara had gripped down, light purple against her skin. The sight should alarm her, but, instead, it sends something like thrill running through her, amping her up, making her want this _more._

Sara looks up, follows her gaze, swears softly as she notices the mark. “Baby, I'm sorry—”

“No,” Ava says. “It's fine. I'm tough. I can handle a bruise.”

Sara laughs, softly. “Okay. Whatever you say.” She pauses for a second. “You ready, baby?” Sara asks, kissing closer.

“Yeah.” Ava nods. “Yeah. Yeah. Please.”

Sara nips lightly at the soft skin on the crease of Ava's thigh, wraps her arms around Ava's legs, and says, “Okay. Relax. I got you.”

And Ava does, relaxes completely, because she knows that, no matter how far she falls, Sara will be there to catch her.

**Author's Note:**

> GOD I LOVE THEM okay @_avasharpe | directoravasharpe.tumblr.com


End file.
